


Things They Can't Erase

by sheepfairy



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Memory, imprints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepfairy/pseuds/sheepfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiskey has memories she shouldn't be having.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things They Can't Erase

"I had a dream about you last night," says Echo.

"That's strange," says Whiskey. "I had a dream about you too."

"It might not be strange," replies Echo. "Maybe that's just how dreams work?"

Whiskey hadn't considered that possibility. She doesn't remember sharing dreams about anyone else, but then again she can't remember having dreamed much at all. It's not as if she has anything to compare to. For a moment she considers suggesting they get a third opinion, but then her handler comes and tells her it's time for her treatment.

Then she forgets everything for a little while.

*****

Whiskey dreams about being a different person.

"I told you," says Echo, pulling not-Whiskey away from crowd of people on the dance floor. "Nobody will mind if we take a few minutes to ourselves. In fact, I don't think anyone will even notice."

"Are you sure?" asks Whiskey.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," says Echo, her mouth so close to Whiskey's ear that she can feel the warmth of her breath.

When Whiskey wakes up there's a strange feeling in her chest that she can't put a name to.

*****

"I had a dream about you again," says Whiskey. Well, she's pretty sure this isn't the first time, but her memory has never been the best.

"Me too," says Echo, smiling. "We were dancing."

The same dream, then. Whiskey's happy to hear it, even though she's not exactly sure why it makes her happy.

"They're weird dreams," says Whiskey. Full of things she doesn't understand. "But I still like having them."

"Sometimes I don't think they're really dreams at all," says Echo.

"What else could they be?"

*****

There's a memory locked up in Whiskey's head - Echo and her at some rich man's party. She shouldn't be able to remember it, but the mind is like a computer. Everything is harder to delete than you'd think.

He's the man of the hour, as is evident by the number of people crawling all over each other to get at him. Of course when you're the kind of rich that can look down on millionaires for not having a money you're usually the man of every hour. Whiskey shouldn't judge too hard, since she's right there with the rest of them doing her best to get him to notice her. He's smart and he's funny and if she manages to get a ring out of him she'll be set for life, so really there's no reason he _shouldn't_ be the center of her attention. No reason except for the distracting brunette with the bright red lipstick who showed up at the party five minutes after Whiskey and has been trailing her ever since.

Whiskey shouldn't know her, not in this time and this place, but somehow there's always something familiar about Echo. She never really gets erased right.

"I brought you a glass of bubbly," says Echo. It's the first thing she's actually said to Whiskey even though they've been skating around each other all night. "I thought you might enjoy it."

 _That's slightly presumptuous of her_ thinks Whiskey, but even her inner critic doesn't do anything to dampen her excitement. "Thank you," she says. She's got half a glass of wine left but she drops it off on the closest table so she can accept the offered champagne.

"Truth be told," says Echo, stepping a little further into Whiskey's personal space than could be considered polite, "I've been watching you all night. Watching you watching me, that is."

 _And that is_ extremely _presumptuous_ thinks Whiskey, but it's hard to take offense when it's true. She edges herself closer, and she doesn't put up a fight when Echo pulls her off the dance floor, even though there's an annoying little voice in the back of her head that keeps reminding her that she's supposed to be off with the billionaire. It's not too hard to ignore, though. Not when she has the tantalizing prospect of Echo before her.

"I think we're far enough away from the rest of them, don't you think?" asks Echo after they've drifted a few doors down a hallway. There's an alcove in the wall, convenient for hiding from prying eyes and fortunately deserted, but close enough to the main party that they can still clearly hear the chattering voices of the other guests.

"We'll have to be quiet," whispers Whiskey. Now that they've found some privacy, Echo has gotten more aggressive. Her fingers trace a line up the back of Whiskey's thighs, tugging up at the material of her short skirt as they got higher.

"I can see how that might be an issue," says Echo, and Whiskey has to bite down on her lip as Echo thrusts her leg between Whiskey's. "It's too bad. I'd like to hear you be loud." Whiskey runs her fingers though Echo's hair, trying not to gasp too loudly as Echo digs her fingers into her hips and pulls her closer, sliding Whiskey against her leg. She inhales the scent of Echo's hair, heavy with the smell of some kind of citrus shampoo, and relishes the feeling of being surrounded by the touch and scent of another person. Echo roughly pushes Whiskey's hips back and forth, not far but enough to generate some proper friction. Not quite enough, though.

As much as Whiskey would like to spend forever in her current position, the rational part of her mind reminds her that they would eventually be missed. "We are in kind of a hurry," she says.

"Point," says Echo, and she backs her leg away from Whiskey enough so that she has room to hike up Whiskey's skirt and slide her fingers down under her panties. Whiskey lowers her head, biting down on Echo's neck to keep herself from making too much noise. Echo moves her hand, doing her best to get Whiskey off hard and fast, and even though Whiskey's trying to be gentle with her biting she can't keep her jaw from tightening up as she gets closer and closer to release.

Her moan as she comes is muffled by Echo's neck, and for a few seconds Echo's body pressed up against hers is the only thing keeping her from slipping to the floor.

"See, now, wasn't that fun?" asks Echo with a teasing tone to her voice.

Whiskey responds by gently nipping at the bruise she'd managed to leave. "Yes," she says quietly, gently pushing Echo off her so she could switch places. Now Echo's the one with her back to the wall. "But you're going to have to be quiet if you don't want us to be interrupted before you get your payback."

"I'll be quite as a church mouse," says Echo as Whiskey slides down to her knees and pushes up Echo's skirt.

She takes longer than Whiskey, and she doesn't manage to be half as quite, and as a result there's a bit of a panicked rush to get their clothes arranged when they hear their names being called from down the hallway.

"Hi, Boyd," says Echo as they they walk down to meet him. Her voice is steadier than her legs, which Whiskey notes are still quivering slightly.

"And where have you two been?" he asks.

"We just slipped into the bathroom," says Echo. "We've only been gone for a few minutes, seriously. Nobody likes a stalker, Boyd." He doesn't look convinced, and Whiskey's suddenly acutely aware of the rather large mark she left on Echo's neck. The stone floor of the building probably left bruises on her knees, too. She self-consciously tugs down on the hem of her dress as Boyd sighs.

"Of course. Well, come along. You too, Whiskey. It's time for your treatments."

*****

The scene keeps popping up in her dreams, and even though she doesn't fully understand it the memory makes her feel warm inside.

She waits by the door for Echo to finish her exercise and then follows her to the corner under the stairs where the others can't see them. "I've been dreaming again," she says, ducking her head. She can't quite meet Echo's eyes as she says it.

"I'm glad," says Echo, and the warmth in her voice gives Whiskey the courage to look up. Echo is smiling at her, and the moment seems right for what she wants to do, so Whiskey leans in and kisses her gently on the lips.

Echo doesn't pull away until they hear the approaching steps of a handler, at which they point they snap apart.

But when they leave they do it arm in arm.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for aaronlisa @ lj for Round 42 (Dollhouse Ladies) of femslash_minis @ lj. The request was: mentions of past imprints, kissing, nearly being caught.


End file.
